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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376421">Of All the Gin Joints in All the World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/witnessfortheprosecution/pseuds/witnessfortheprosecution'>witnessfortheprosecution</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>From Under the Cork Tree [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Lost Love, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:55:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,266</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/witnessfortheprosecution/pseuds/witnessfortheprosecution</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1929. The stock market has had the biggest crash in history, jazz and prohibition are in full swing, and Logan meets someone he hasn't seen in a long, long time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>From Under the Cork Tree [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1306370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Of All the Gin Joints in All the World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oh boy, I am back. It has been so long since I have written anything, it feels weird. I am sorry I was gone for so long, if you care, I'll explain a little bit, if not you can skip and go right into the story. (tw for depression and suicide and fire)<br/>In September I had ended a 4 year relationship. I found out I was polyamorous and my partner was not, we split. However, around that same time my parents kicked me out of my house and I had no where to go but live with my ex (it was chill, we got a 2 bedroom and were friends at the time). Lots of other stuff happened, I had 2 cars catch on fire on me in 1 month, lost a scholarship, and was just having a rough time. My roommate then began having his partner living with us, even though I explicitly said that I wasn't okay with it, so now we are fighting and I am kind of lonely all the time because I don't have many close friends. Then, about a month ago, I had a suicide attempt, and now everyone is in quarantine, so that brings us up to speed. So yea, not great still, a bit personal, but I still wanna write. And if I have been a bit MIA online, that is also why. </p>
<p>There is lots of 1920's slang in here but I am sure you can use context clues. Enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Logan coughed as he walked through a cloud of smoke, waving his hand in front of his face. Everyone was smoking and laughing, it was giving Logan a headache, though, after a string of arrests that he barely managed to escape, this was the only gin joint that still existed in his backwash town. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whiskey, neat,” Logan said, bored. He took off his hat and set it down at the seat next to him, hoping no one would be stupid enough to move his hat to make conversation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that’s a drink,” His usual bartender poured him a small glass in an unmarked bottle. “How’s life?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan scoffed, “How’s life for anyone right now, Dee?” The bartender smiled and Logan scoffed, “You don’t count, any one of us could end up in bracelets if one of these stool-pigeons here decides to turn your ass in.”</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You already know that ain’t gonna happen,” Dee said quietly but confidently. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep raising your prices and these goons will,” Logan raised his glass, “75 cents for one glass of whiskey? You know the Dow just dropped 25%?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee scoffed, cleaning a glass, “You got stocks?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan scoffed, “Nah, had to sell ‘em just to stay afloat. School just cut my salary, lucky to still have my apartment.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“At least you still have your job, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do their books, I’m basically the fella who cut everyone’s salary and decided who got fired,” Logan said, almost haunted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Dee smirked, “So when a bunch of sad mugs from the public school come in here wanting to send death threats to the guy who got them laid off, I’ll just give ‘em your address,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan raised his glass, “Drink to forget,” And threw down the rest of his drink. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee shook his head, refilling his glass, “At least you can afford to do that. Can’t say that for a lot of these customers pulling through here. So many depressed faces, it is awfully horrid to look at,” Dee shivered, “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about that,” Dee rubbed the back of his neck which called attention to the diamond rocks he had in both ears, Logan scoffed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That ice could pay 4 months of my rent, you done showing off?” Logan asked, thoroughly unamused. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea, yea, my bad mac,” Dee chuckled, but leaned in close, “You know, you could get in on this, not have to worry about that public school salary again,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan narrowed his eyes, “For the last time, I am not engaging in an illegal scheme with you,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee clicked his tongue, running his fingers through his midnight black hair, “Just by having that there drinking, you’re already are.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, let me rephrase, I am not going to be war profiteering with you,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee leaned back, offended, “Wow! It’s like that, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan raised his eyebrows, smirking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee crossed his arms, offended, but still smiling, “C’mon baby, at least think about it. You’re smart and tough as bullets. Everyone could use a little spending money right now, eh? Not many people would say no to extra cash at a time like this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan bit his bottom lip and let out a breath, not realising how much tension he had been carrying in just his shoulders and upper back. The financial stress was beginning to weigh on him. He spent nearly $15 on a gallon of whiskey just to finish it all in 2 days. Alcoholism was not something that paired well with financial hardship. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know,” Logan said, not making eye contact with the bartender/con-man, “4 months ago, I would have given you a straight answer, now…” Logan sighed, “I’ll think about it,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee smiled, “Now that’s what I like to hear,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan sipped a bit more of his whiskey, the burning taste beginning to feel more comforting than revolting, “How is your, uh… Friend doing?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee’s smile disappeared as he quickly looked side to side at the bar. He snapped a gloved hand at a dame sitting two chairs away from Logan, “You, scram,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The woman raised her eyebrows defiantly. Dee scoffed and casually put his hands on his waist, moving his coat to reveal a gun on his hip. The woman’s eyes flickered downwards; she rolled her eyes and went to move to a table towards the stage. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee turned his attention back towards Logan, leaning towards him close once more, “You can’t say shit that loud,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan smirked, “What? Ask about your… Friend?” Logan chuckled slightly as Dee gave him a dangerous look, “Apologies, it is just fun to get a rise out of your when being a queer is the least illegal thing you are engaged in right now,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee shook his head, “You don’t get it, these saps won’t rat me out for selling them booze but if they find out it was handled by a gay man? I’ll be lynched. You don’t see many gay mob bosses around,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan frowned at him, “You are not a mob boss, you just run an illegal gin joint. Do not attempt to make yourself sound more dangerous, you are not fooling anyone,” Dee sighed and Logan fiddled with his newly empty glass, “So, how is your friend?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee had a rare soft smile on his face to match his voice, “It is good, things are good right now. It is a bit hard, him being in New York and me being, well, here, but we talk on the telephone every Tuesday and write, and luckily he’ll be back in 3 weeks. I, uh, am hoping a bit that he stays this time.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I am,” Dee nodded, not being able to make eye contact with Logan anymore, “I would never want him to stop acting, he is on Broadway right now for goodness sakes, but, I- I really want him to be here… With me… F-forev- for a while.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you told him that?” Logan asked, leaning down, trying to look at Dee’s face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee scoffed, offended but almost sad, “God, no. You want me? To be honest? About what I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Get real, Logan,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan defensively put his hands up, “Apologies for even suggesting it,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How are things with you?” Dee asked, mindlessly wiping down his side of the bar. “Any fellas pick your fancy?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Since when do you care about my romantic tribulations?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee shrugged, throwing the towel over his shoulder, “Do you want to talk about it?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan sighed, pushing his empty crystal towards the bartender and nodded towards the whiskey, “Would if there was anything to talk about. I don’t exactly expect to find a partner in my lifetime,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee topped off his glass and pushed it back towards him, “Under normal circumstances I would tell you to not stay optimistic but…” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan raised his glass and looked down at his shoes, “Salut,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna cut you off now, sad drinking is a horrid look on you,” Dee bit his lip. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not believe it is a good look on anyone,” Logan frowned. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee rolled his eyes, “So clever,” He looked at his watch and then a little bit of a way past Logan’s head, “We’ve got some live music starting in about 5 minutes. Came all the way from NYC. Distract yourself,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I will just stay here, thanks,” Logan tapped the edge of the whiskey with his neatly trimmed fingernails. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good call, Lo,” Dee said, sourly, and finally left to tend to the other customers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan did his best to never let the loneliness sit in. He was never good at forming meaningful relationships and the limited interactions he had with those at his job had been cut ever since the layoffs created by his own hand. Logan could never, in good conscious, be friendly or polite with coworkers who were racist or homophobic; he has tried in the past but it is always an itch he could not scratch. Why must he compromise his moral integrity to be polite towards those who devalue him as a person?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Life is difficult, more difficult than it should be. Logan knew, ever since he was a child, it would never be all glitz and glamour. Living in a small, one bedroom with 5 siblings after moving to America at the young age of 5, it was hard. It will always be hard. Then, Logan went off and made it harder on himself by being queer. Why would he do that? His parents call every now and again, asking about a wife and grandchildren, and he has to let them down everytime. The people at his work stare and judge, a man in his late 20’s with no kids, no wife, no plan? Logan was always so reserved, but he is forced into a lifestyle that makes him stand out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He picks at the edge of the wooden bar, pulling off a peeling splinter of wood and mindlessly tore that apart as well, bit by bit. Logan sighed, and looked up from the bar to ask for his grossly expensive bill, but Dee was not behind it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, babes and birds, if you’re looking to feel good at this tragic time, look no further. All the way from New York City, I got </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vee and the Bees</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Dee made the announcement with his usual showmanship and grandeur, followed by polite applause and some whoops and hollers. Logan just sighed and turned back around to finish off his drink. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello everyone, uh, super glad to be here tonight,” A timid, but strong, voice filled the room, amplified greatly by the microphones. Maybe it was the drinks, but the volume was a bit too loud, yet the voice was nice, comforting, familiar.. “We got a great line up tonight, so take your hats off, roll down your stockings, and relax for this hour of jazz.” More applause and more sighs from Logan. After finishing off drink #3, the alcohol began setting in as his body relaxed and his mind dazed. “Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you walk into mine, Logan Nakayama, this goes out to you,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mind un-dazed. The horns played loudly as Logan spun around as quickly as his body would let him and his heart stopped as he saw the owner of the voice, centerstage dawning a deep purple suit and a look of mischief present; playfulness sparkled in his wide obsidian eyes and a smirk was present on his full lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, do you know this Vee guy?” Dee whispered in Logan’s ear, but Logan was in a trace, the singer and the accountant making longing eye contact. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, kind of,” Logan said, absentmindedly, as he walked closer to the stage. The horns and drums faded out and he held onto the microphone stand, tilted his head, and began singing, still looking at Logan. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Never thought that you would be, standing here so close to me, there’s so much I feel that I should say,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The taunting left the singers eyes but the contact didn’t, it felt as though he was speaking directly to Logan. The spell had been broken and Logan remembered who it really was that was standing in front of him. Logan would never normally get emotional in public, but the memories he was bringing back made his eyes well up with tears, and he began to back away from the stage, no longer being able to bear the sight of the man in front of him, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s been a long long time. You’ll never know how many dreams I dream about you, or just how empty they all seem without you,” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan’s throat felt like it was full of cotton, he backed up until he reached the bar. He spun around to face Dee, “Please give me my tab,” He ordered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Logan, who-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please,” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dee turned around to look at the receipts on the wall to find “Nash”. Logan tapped the edge of the bar, anxious to leave the establishment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, Logan,” Logan felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and then retract; there he was, standing right next to him, not on stage. He looked and the band was still playing, hinting at an interlude. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Virgil- wha- why are you here?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t answer Logan, “Are you leaving? Don’t leave, please, I need- I feel as though we should talk,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan could not form a coherent sentence with the man standing next to him. His purple suit really made his bronze skin glow, something Logan could not handle at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really need to leave- I- Virgil I cannot handle being here with you, it is not good for me,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil sighed, flustered and looking upset, “I know, everything that happened was my fault I just- please stay until the end of the show, I really have to talk to you,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan paused, thinking for a moment, then looked back at the singer, “I’m sorry, I just can’t do that,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil bit his lip and nodded, and began to walk away, but stopped himself, turning back towards Logan, “Do you have a house phone?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“D-do you have a house phone, yes or no?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan nodded swiftly and Virgil pulled out a marker and grabbed a napkin, handing both to Logan with a pleading look, “Please,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan debates in his head if he should give his early 20’s heartbreaker his house phone number, so many things could go wrong. But that look in his eye and the time that had passed… He wrote it down swiftly, handing both back to Virgil. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can go, I’ll call you after the show,” Logan nodded curtly, feeling all kinds of bad, “Thank you,” And Virgil ran back to the stage. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan’s heart was beating a 1000 miles a minute as he turned back to Dee who had his tab and a curious look in his eye, “Are you gonna explain what that was?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan pursed his lips and pulled out his wallet, looking at the cash inside, “I’ll take a bottle of scotch to go,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A glass shattered on the floor, abruptly waking Logan from his slumber. He groaned, a bad taste in the back of his mouth. He looked at the glass on the floor and his white Persian cat huddled under his reading chair. It was only then did he process the phone loudly ringing from the living room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned down to scratch his head, “Did the phone scare you, Fitzy?” But rather than be welcoming to his owner’s touch, he was met with a violent swiping from a single clawed paw, “Ouch! Alright, we are not friends, goodness,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan pulled on his slippers and answered the phone, the shrill ringing was starting to cause a headache. He picked up the phone, rubbing his eyes, “This is the Nash residence,” He said, sleepily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nash? That’s your surname now, huh?” A familiar voice said in surprise. Logan was then wide awake. Logan stuttered for a few seconds before Virgil decided to speak again, “Just between you and me, I liked Nakayama better,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan sighed, but chuckled a bit, “I hope this is between you and me, I share this line with 2 other apartments,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a better way for us to talk, I wouldn’t want you to get…” Virgil trailed off, nervously. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it is fine, my neighbors are pretty respectful. If they do attempt to slander me, I can get them in trouble for a multitude of crimes,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil half-heartedly chuckled, “Seems like the wild west out here,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Something like,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two fell into silence, just occasionally hearing one another breath or clear their throat so they know they are still on the line. Logan pulled the cord away from the handset and towards a window, a window that the blinds have been broken since he moved in. He should get that fixed, he thinks, though, he thinks that every time he has a long phone conversation. He looks outside at a small shower happening, the street lights dimly glowing on the pavement beneath him. The stars are clouded by the stratus but you could faintly see the moon shining. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan exhaled, “What time is it,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a pause, “11:32,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is late,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was so much to be said, but neither of them were good at talking about their feelings, even though they had so many of them. Logan still sat in silence, though, Virgil called him, this was up to him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was another long bout of silence, before Virgil spoke, “I am sorry, Logan,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would be quite upset if you weren’t,” Logan huffed and turned away from the window, then leaning against it, feeling the coolness of the condensation on his back through his thin shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Logan, it was a mistake, plea-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“6 years ago, 3 days before we were set to move to New York City together you disappeared with only a letter, just a letter, do you remember what they said?” Logan relayed the facts to Virgil with his usual cold stupor, not the warmness that Virgil had surely remembered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Virgil said, quietly. In the background, you could hear the pittering rain against what Logan assumed was a phonebooth, “Those words are tattooed inside my mind,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be back for you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Logan said, hoping that Virgil didn’t notice the wavering in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I promise,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Virgil finished, Logan noticing the wavering in his. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was silence between them again, neither of them knowing what to say. What was Logan to say? Why should he tell him about the late nights he spent, wondering and waiting as to what happened to his lover? How he hardened his heart with booze and dope and years of desentizing? Does he owe him that explanation, or does Virgil already know?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t you, y’know. You were perfect,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan cleared his throat, “Actually, there is no such thing as perfection, humans come with-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea, yea, every human comes with their own set of flaws and there is no control group for a perfect human to compare. You are such a dork,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan cursed himself for smiling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was all me, mostly. I… Got scared.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan frowned, “Of what? Commitment?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Virgil sighed, and Logan heard a thumping sound like a fist on glass, “You remember those thugs who lived in the complex next to your old one?” Logan affirmed. “Well, they got busted about a week before for booze possession. They thought I was the one who did it. They basically sort of… Roughed me up a bit and told me to pay them and skip town or they would sell us out for a reduced sentence and throw us in the pen.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan was silent, shocked, he was going to ask about a million questions but Virgil kept talking, “I had to leave that night and I didn’t have a lot of time in the house. I figured I just had to be gone for about 2 weeks or so and I could sneak back, explain what had happened to you, and we could skip town that night. So, I dipped into my savings and stayed away in a little backwash town about 50 miles out. 2 weeks had passed and when I had come back to the apartment everything was gone.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan swallowed the lump in his throat, “It was pretty easy to figure what had happened, and I would have done the same. So, I still stuck with the plan and went to NYC, got a couple of odd jobs, but I never stopped looking for you L. Every phone book and every place I went I tried,”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sure my name change did not help your quest,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Virgil sadly chuckled, “That did not help, I wish I had known that 6 years sooner,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil scoffed, “You? Sorry? You’re a wise head, Logan, but you’re being such a sap. None of this was your fault, okay? I made my own decisions and you made yours. I just wish we did not have to hurt one another in the process,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you figure out where I was?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Met a fella named Roman a few years back, we played a couple shows in a couple clubs with him, very dumb. ‘Bout a month ago his friend wrote him a letter talking about a brilliant Japanese patron who he wanted to get in business with named Logan. I was not 100% sure it was you, in fact I knew it was a long shot, but I wrote this Dee fella asking if he wanted some live music. Sure you can fill in the blanks for the rest,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan sputtered, “I honestly don’t know what to say,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil cleared his throat, “Well… Uh, I was sort of hoping that maybe, we could pick up where we left off?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan frowned, “But you live in New York and I’m all the way-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t care, I let you go once, that is not happening again. You can stay with me or, hell, I will uproot my life to stay with you. You are so important to me. No one will know the struggles we have gone through, no one will know the pain or heartbreak we have endured, but even though this story is just for us, let’s give it a happy ending, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan’s eyes welled up with tears, but he is finally crying for Virgil, not because of him, “Yea, okay,” He said, softly smiling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you look out your window again?” Virgil said, Logan being able to hear the smile over the phone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan pulled his back away from the window and looked out of it. Just barely, to the right of his complex he could see a phone booth with a man standing inside. Logan smiled and walked back to the other side of his kitchen to hang up the phone. He quickly pulled on his coat and slipped on shoes, running out the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He exited his apartment building, cursing himself for forgetting an umbrella because it was doing a little more than showering now. He didn’t let a little water stop him as he jogged towards the glowing photobooth, the royal purple clad man standing inside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan reached the door, his hair and clothes almost fully soaked, he knocked on the door and Virgil turned around, his pearly white smile lighting up his face. He opened the door, “Sorry, you’re soaking wet, can’t have you touching my velvet coat,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan could barely see the material of the coat because of the rain clouding his glasses. He put them on top of his head and grabbed Virgil’s hand, pulling him into the rain with him, “There, now we are both soaked,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil laughed, taking off his coat and throwing it back in the booth, then sighing and extending his arms, letting the rain pour on him. Logan couldn’t help the blush that formed as he stared at Virgil looking so content and beautiful, embracing the storm, like he was born in the rain and has lived in the chaos all his life. Virgil then looked at Logan, who was also staring up at the sky. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil grabbed his hand, “C’mon,” He pulled him into the phonebooth with him and closed the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cozy,” Logan commented, dryly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I felt a bit weird, being so out in the open,” Virgil said, shivering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan nodded, placing one hand around the back of his neck and another brushing the dark coils out of his eyes, “Of course, I understand,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Virgil’s breath became shallow and he avoided making eye contact with Logan, “I do apologize Logan, I’m so scared,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of what?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of everything,” Virgil weakly chuckled, “I know we have to talk about things and I feel as though I am going to mess this up again and what will happen if people find out we could both lose our jobs I-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no need to worry about that right now, Virgil, please,” Logan said, calmly. “We can worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, focus on the good things,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I can narrow that down to just one man,” Virgil said, still with a bit of edge in his voice, but he confidently put his arms around Logan’s waist, pulling him closer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat between them where Logan was just drinking in this moment, it felt like a dream or something out of a romance novel. He never believed in luck but there must be someone or something on his side tonight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so glad your back,” Logan said, inching closer to Virgil’s face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Logan nodded, “I promise,” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was then Virgil who closed the gap between them, nearly sweeping Logan off his feet as he pulled him closer to his chest in a warm yet passion filled kiss. The rain was still pittering on the roof of the telephone booth as they continued, Virgil cupping Logan’s face and Logan’s hands trailing down to tenderly hold his waist. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was no telling how long they were there, but it didn’t matter. If a nosy neighbor looked out the window, all they would be able to see is two figures distorted by the dew on the glass of the phonebooth and the droplets on the windows. It doesn’t matter that it is two men, or that they are long lost lovers. Any person would not be able to tell, and it is best kept that way. After all, this story is just for them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed and I am not too rusty. The song that Virgil is singing is "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Kitty Kallen, this also played at the end of Endgame. Leave a comment if you liked!</p>
<p>Follow me or shoot me a message on Tumblr: thealphabetmurders</p></blockquote></div></div>
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